Walking On Air
by SnapesYukuai
Summary: Nick asks Sean to visit Portland Fair with him. Does the Captain know what he got himself into? slash, established relationship


Here comes pure and utter fluff! Just a little piece about Nick and his zauberbiest in an established relationship. It is also the first part of my series 'Walking On Air'.

As explanation:

'mon gamin' is French for 'my brat'

Enjoy!

Walking on air:

Morning sun streams in through large windows. Nick wakes up slowly, instinctively nuzzling the alluring neck of his big sleepy zauberbiest. He feels the man stir, smirks and snuggles up closer. Meanwhile Sean grows aware of his Grimm pressing feather light kisses to his throat.

"Mmmmmh." The vibration of that sound against his sensitive skin does the most interesting things to him as his insolent Grimm proceeds to shower him with light kisses. He opens his eyes to mere slits, sees that mischievous sparkle in Nick's eyes and closes them again with a groan.

"Go back to sleep. You're much too bright for this time of the day." It all comes out in a sleepy, yet commanding mumble. Nick chuckles and quietly cuddles up to his grumpy 'biest for now.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

"Sean?"

"Hmmm?

"What, no French today?"

"Too early and too little sleep."

"Hah, says the man who falls back on French every time he gets tired enough?"

"Not funny... and I'm not answering to the demands of terrorists or bratty Grimms."

"I freely admit I am a brat but where would be the fun if I weren't?"

Nick slides back up to his beloved, nibbling his merry way up along Sean's neck peppering that enticing skin with kisses as he speaks:

"You... wouldn't... have... me... any other way... and... you... know... it."

Chuckling Sean gives his insatiable Grimm a playful shove. The man is less easy to dislodge than anticipated, though, so he changes tactics. Before Nick knows what's happening his shoulders are grabbed and Sean has flipped them around, has Nick pressed against the mattress, legs straddled.

"Well, I think you had a question before you went all naughty and forced me to restrain you."

"Hmm. I'm not sure I feel able to negotiate with you now that my position has taken a turn for the worse."

The content smile lighting up Nick's features as he glances up totally belies his words.

"A turn for the worse, huh?" The devious man practically purrs as he moves his hips just so, sending a jolt of arousal through Nick.

"Now, what were you going to ask, mon gamin?"

The Grimm hesitates, suddenly unsure if this is a good idea. Sean waits patiently for him to come around, though.

"Sean, … will you visit the Portland Fair with me?"

Seeing his powerful, always in control Captain doing an authentic impression of a gold fish just about weights up going through the uncertainty of asking this of Sean.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

The afternoon is warm and sunny, Portland hiding its famous rainy side for once. The Fair is lively, colourful and offers a myriad of stalls, trades and fun rides. In other words: It is wonderful!

Nick and Sean are leisurely strolling along various booths, more relaxed and at ease than they have been in a long time, considering everything that's happened over the last months. Sean is content to watch his Grimm wander about and point out things that he finds intriguing. He loves to see that energetic, carefree side, that boyish grin of pure delight, that Sean secretly adores, as he explores everything on offer. Nick sidles back to him looking up with mischief clear in his eyes.

"What do you think now? Is it so bad...?" Apparently his attention is captured by something else because suddenly he turns around and exclaims:

"Oh my God, look at this! Rosalee would love this!"

The Grimm turned excited child takes his hand and tugs him over to a stall selling cotton candy. Nick laughs out loud, completely endorsed as he watches the man from the stall twist a fluffy tuffy _unicorn_ out of the pink mass of candy floss. Sean may not share Nick's enthusiasm for this admittedly artistic piece of candy but even he feels a smile tugging at his lips – and be it only in face of his lover's delight.

One would think that two grown men buying unicorn shaped cotton candy would seem ridiculous but somehow the sight of Nick proudly holding out the stick to take a picture with his cellphone makes all those other contemplations unimportant.

And going by Nick's expression of honest to God glee he has just sent the photo off to Rosalee.

The answering squeal-scream voice message, of which Sean is sure he'll never understand the full content despite being fluent in multiple languages, but which puts a loving smile on Nick's face, is well worth the general attention it causes.

He'll never admit to it but he feels his impassive front soften in fond affection as he watches his Grimm. When Nick wants to take his hand, however, after snagging and eating a good part of that pink aberration's head, Sean pins him with a truly black glare. Uncertainty bleeds into those grey eyes and his hand stops in mid air.

It reminds the Royal that hardened as his Grimm may be, there are still marks left from his broken relationship with Juliette. He knows – although Nick does his best not to show it – that the woman's unwillingness to accept his new life and all burdens it encompasses has hurt him deeply, has nearly shattered him to be honest.

But Sean won't hurt his beloved, hasn't meant it the way Nick thinks.

"If you think you will be holding my hands with those sticky fingers you don't know me very well." A smirk appears on his face he steps up to his Grimm, takes the aforementioned sugar covered appendage by the wrist and holds it up between them. His gaze still pins Nick to the spot, capturing him although there's still worry and a bit of hurt.

"Candy cotton, _washing_ hands, then _holding_ hands, _exclusively_ in that order, my Detective." Slowly he tugs Nick's hand up to his mouth – with his beloved watching enraptured – places a feather light kiss on sticky fingers, lets his tongue dart out to taste for only Nick to see. The tension melts in this moment of intimacy, uncertainty leaving his face and giving way to mirth again. Nick rises up onto his tiptoes, kisses soft lips after they move away from his fingers.

"Oh well, but that just means you have to help me eat this before temptation gets better of me." Nick wriggles his fingers for show.

"After all there's something to be said for helpful and supportive commanding officers."

He plucks a good bit of pink fluff from the mass of candy and holds it out to Sean enticingly. As expected the man's expression goes from affection to cool refusal faster than one can blink so he snatches it away and eats it with an unconcerned shrug. This Nick can deal with. This is their normal banter, Sean's way of teasing, not that feeling of insecurity from moments ago.

"Your loss... Rosalee liked it."

"Yes. I heard... and I'm sure I'll remember the sound of it 'til my dying day." Nick chuckles when the big grumpy zauberbiest comes forth, showing itself not in a woge but in a grimace and a long suffering sigh.

"Lead the way then, my brat, before I think better of it."

Nick is content. He knows now for all his cool act Sean loves it... being here at the fair, relaxing... and of course seeing his Grimm Detective unravel enough to show his carefree side.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

"Oh, look, there's Bud with his children. Mind if I say hello?"

"Bud, the Eisbiber?"

"The very one." Nick replies with a quirk to his lips. Bud needs some getting used to but by now he is among Nick's closest friends. The man may be nervous, skittish and sometimes rambles until you don't know where there is front and back but he is also kind hearted, always helpful and a wonderful father.

"Sure, why not. I'll wait here."

Nick looks over once more, sees the plumber and his family slowly move on and intents to press his stick of cotton candy into Sean's hand to jog over to the group.

Only that the hand moves away at the last possible moment, which is curious, so that the mob of pink fluff is pushed toward empty air instead. Nick's expression is comically confused.

"Umm, I thought you said, you don't mind."

"And I don't."

"So why then...?" He frowns now.

"Nick, why don't you take your... _thing_ with you when greet your acquaintance? Or do you fear you'll seem less _Grimm_ when he sees you with it?"

"Oh, not at all. Bud would love it! He's all for arts and crafts."

"So...?" The Royal raises his eyebrows in a show of expectant waiting. Nick rolls his eyes, throwing him a look as if he's a bit slow. Renard's responding glare says 'You're not working towards making me hold that sticky unicorn aberration'. The Grimm is infuriatingly unfazed (damn the man), though, and explains:

"Well, you see, Bud has his children with him and if they see my candy cotton they will want to eat it."

"I still do not see where this is a _disadvantage_."

The look from earlier returns, only tinged with fond exasperation now.

"My Captain, the problem here is that _I_ want to eat it."

"Hmm." That non-committal sound expresses a whole lot of different things, among them: 'I still don't see why anyone would want to.'

"Are going to hold my stick now or not? If we spent much more time discussing they will be off."

When the man doesn't immediately protest Nick uses his opportunity with a cunning that would have made Sean proud had he not been the victim of said employment of Grimm cleverness. With more speed than a mortal should possess he grabs his Prince's wrist, pulls it toward him and pushes the stick into his hand.

"Thanks, you're the best!" This is half shouted once Nick has already covered half the distance to Bud and his children. The zauberbiest seethes inwardly and seriously toys with the idea of just throwing the pink thing away...

But that would mean one angry not to mention heartbroken Grimm Detective, so...

 _I must be losing my touch! Before that bratty, insolent Grimm turned my life upside down I would have ordered a man's death without so much as a twitch of my conscience! And_ _ **now**_ _... I am seriously debating if throwing away some candy cotton monster would make said Grimm unhappy!_

Still he doesn't act upon his idea. He stays still, schooling a fearsome scowl into cool aloofness before it can fully flicker to life, and holds out that stick from hell as if he expects it to explode or attack at the first chance given. The Royal sighs inaudibly as he watches the bane of his existence and likewise his reason to live reach his friend and be tackled down by a bunch of overexcited eisbiber children.

 _Before that man stepped into your life you did not have anyone important enough to you to make having a conscience worth anything._

His sharp hearing detects some words from the children:

"We... Grimm! … have the Grimm!" They are laughing as is Nick while Bud hovers near, wringing his hands and obviously trying to get his children to stop accosting their local Grimm while it is clear that Nick is enjoying it as much as the kids do.

When Sean feels a fond smile tug at his lips at the sight he firmly squashes it down. It simply wouldn't do for him to be seen holding _it_ and be smiling. His musings are cut short by a wisp of pink cotton candy gently wafting in the breeze...

… Wafting dangerously close to his nose!

He jerks his head back, glaring at the offending piece of candy. Taking care to hold the stick just a bit farther away from himself he turns his gaze back to his Grimm. Now that he has finally shaken off the group of boys (two of which are constantly woging in excitement, thankfully only for wesen and not for any kehrseite to see) he squats down to be on eye level with the only eisbiber who Nick hasn't wrestled with.

It is obviously Bud Wurstner's daughter, who looks to be no older than four, and shyly peers up at Nick through her brown locks. It becomes clear quickly, though, that Nick and the small girl know and like each other because in no time at all he has the young eisbiber giggling softly and they share a conspirational grin.

The Royal's nose begins to twitch while his observant gaze is still fixed on his lover. For a moment he considers the reason for this curious bodily reaction, then the answer comes to him:

A thin strand of fiendish candy mob has again wafted over close to his face. He keeps a growl in check, but barely, keeps his nose from further twitching with a great effort of will. He will not stoop so low as to have an involuntarily twitching nose. Being of royal blood means that some things are simply beneath him.

 _Curious, half a year ago that would have included flights of fancy like visiting a fair to please his lover or indulge his (adorable) whims only to make a smile appear on his face._

For about 5 minutes the Prince of Portland manages to be the very picture of calm detachment, then his left eyelid begins to twitch in lieu of his nose. He wants to growl, to throw that infuriating fluff of sugar as far as he can, and possibly to scream but he does none of those things.

Instead he throws death glares alternatively at his lover and his lover's sticky unicorn, unconsciously causing people in the vicinity to give him a wide berth. At 6ft 4', patrician features adorned by a truly thunderous scowl, Captain Sean Renard strikes an imposing not to say terrifying figure even while holding a pinker than life fluffy tuffy cotton candy unicorn!

"You know, my dear Captain, that you cannot have a staring contest with something that doesn't even possess a head anymore. That counts as an unfair advantage as far as I know."

Nick has returned to his side without him noticing.

 _Great. Now that piece of sugar even endangers my life by capturing my attention while God knows what killer can sneak up on me!_

"Then maybe you should have eaten its _tail_ first, shouldn't you, Detective? But as you just _had_ to pluck off its head first your piece of candy now pays the prize for your folly."

Even when snapping the words come out in a smooth drawl, an eyebrow is raised and his sharp eyes are blazing.

 _Uh, oh my zauberbiest has turned decidedly grumpy. Hell, this reminds me decidedly too much of my rooky days under Renard's command. When he looks like that I feel_ _ **exactly**_ _like those times early on when I handed in some of my more memorable, not to say completely rubbish, case reports... and I say that_ _even now after we have been in a relationship for over 6 months. Damn the man for being able to pull that off_ _ **and**_ _look dead sexy while also looking deadly!_

 _Time to employ a bit of blackmail... errr diplomacy._

"Why don't you hand Fluffy Tuffy back over... slowly so that nobody gets hurt and in exchange I buy you (and here the Grimm pulls out his trump) a piece of that wonderfully, delicious, home made and mostly likely still warm cheesecake from over there."

Nick practically purrs that last description while keeping a close eye on his lover. It's got to be said that only years of training (yes, even before they became a couple Nick has trained in that art) enable the Grimm to see the cogs turn in his beloved's head.

Sean's dark look promises retribution for that comment but Nick has found his courage now and is obviously not as intimidated as he should rightfully be. The zauberbiest reaches his decision fairly quickly but lets his bratty Grimm stew in ignorance for quite a bit longer – a small punishment for his cocky behaviour.

He waits, deadly calm, until even the hardened Grimm gets slightly twitchy in face of his stony façade and hostage-taking of his favourite candy cotton, then he finally pushes the sticky fluff back into Nick's waiting hands, gracefully ignoring the fact that Nick eyes him as if he were a cornered suspect about to do something potentially dangerous. It takes an inordinate amount of will power to repress a look of profound relief once the _thing_ is out of his hands.

Instead of giving Nick opportunity to witness such an admission of 'weakness', though, he strides off to the mentioned stall selling cheesecake, throwing over his shoulder as he walks:

"Well, are you going to hold up your end of the bargain, or not?"

In any other situation the shrewd Prince would have withheld what the other desired until he has received his part of the agreement but, honestly, he cuts it at having to hold that devilish candy stick for a single moment longer… there are things simply not to be done.

"Of course, Captain. I am a man of my word. Chose something of your fancy and it shall be my honour to fetch it for thee."

Sean smirks at the Grimm's (bad) attempt at historical speech, shaking his head at his antics.

Nick jogs up to him, all confident and happy again, peacefully munching on his fluffy cloud of beheaded unicorn. Renard for his part sets his gaze firmly on his intended target (namely the heavenly looking cheesecake) before he loses his appetite in face of Nick's new 'pet'.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Some time later, standing off to the side where it's less crowded, he's just enjoying every single bite of his _king_ sized piece of cake – which Nick has called 'Prince sized', saying it would get to his head, if he called it the k-word – when his thoughts go back to what he has observed earlier.

"Those children seemed to like you. I mean, it's not as if nearly every child you encounter doesn't take to you from the very beginning, but you _are_ a Grimm and they are wesen. I even think I heard something along the lines of 'We have the Grimm'."

Sean cocks his head in enquiry, secretly amused by the amount of time it takes Nick to actually answer.

It seems that his Grimm has had to reallocate a good portion of his brain from watching enraptured as his lover sucks cake off a fork to using said facility to form words. Add to that the light blush creeping onto his cheeks at the compliment and it makes for quite an enticing picture…

Made sooo much more enticing by the fact that by now the man has finished his candy cotton.

"Umm. They kind of adore me ever since I had a few words with one Boomer Williams, doing class 7a and the one who bullied Zack… that's Bud's second oldest son. Needless to say Boomer is wesen, a young Drang-Zorn to be exact. The argument that started it all was about badger's being much cooler than beavers I believe."

Nick rubs the back of his head in bashfulness, further messing up his already tousled hair. This time the Captain cannot keep a fond smile from tugging at his lips. He steps up to his Grimm, takes the hand that has been responsible for that adorable tousle and murmurs with warmth in his voice:

"It speaks in your favor, both as a Grimm and a man, that they place this kind of trust in you, mon gamin. What you have built here despite your ancestor's legacy is something you should cherish instead of being shamed by."

Nick's face glows with happiness and affection as he gazes up at his 'biest.

"Thanks."

If emotion makes his voice come out a bit rougher than normal Sean does not intent to mention it. Instead he places a warm, large hand onto Nick's neck when the smaller man puts his forehead against his Prince's chest for a moment before regaining control again and looking back up.

"So what do you think, up to a bit more of exploring?"

Sean cannot help shaking his head in fond exasperation.

"By all means, if it makes you happy."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

They stroll on, watching the colorful jumble of people, stalls and excitement and just enjoy themselves. They have made their way to the waterfront by now, where stalls offer games and other such things. It's in all this that Nick discovers something that he likes even more than Fluffy Tuffy (as he has christened the candy unicorn):

It is a big cuddly toy. A bear of darkest blue – wearing a tailored looking suit of all things – sporting (Nick could swear to that) exactly the same look that his Captain shows when one of his subordinates has messed up royal scale!

Sean is occupied elsewhere so the Detective steps up closer to the booth to inspect it:

It seems to have a variant of 'coconut shy' on offer, in which you try to dislodge coconuts balanced on posts to get a prize. Instead of throwing a ball, however, one has to use a bat to lob it at the coconuts here. The displayed cuddly toys are decidedly high end, much better than your average fun fair toy but watching the booth for a while Nick already has his suspicions how this works for the stall owner.

Those coconuts are definitely fiddled with. Rarely anyone manages to throw a nut off a post but somehow _ol' Bill_ (as proclaimed by the stall sigh) manages to talk his merry way around that fact, lulling his customers in with skill that Nick has to admire at a purely objective level.

Time to give that guy some of his own medicine... and to get a certain cuddly toy. He wants that bear, oh _how_ he wants that bear (which in his head he already calls Mr. Renard). A truly devious smile ghosts over his lips before it vanishes behind a mask of innocent charm. Patiently he waits for his turn.

"Umm, sorry, how many coconuts would I have to hit to get that blue bear over there?" Pointing at Mr. Renard hanging from a string in the booth Nick leans forward a bit and lowers his voice to a whisper:

"I want to impress a certain someone, you know?"

"Well, what can ol' Bill say to that? You woul' 'ave to hit true only ten times which is, as you mus' admit, practically nothin' for such a nice fella as this one!"

"Ten times?! I would need _so_ many tries to manage that! Isn't that awfully pricey?"

Hank often teases him with how young he sometimes looks, saying that with his longish bangs and puppy dog eyed stare he could pass for at least five years younger.

The powerful Grimm uses that to his full advantage now, eyes going wide in perceived shock, face falling in honest dismay. Sometimes your best weapon is for your opponent to underestimate you. He is aware that by now his exclamation has drawn quite the audience, is aware that his Prince is near as well – observing and drawing his own conclusions.

When Nick turns briefly he finds himself faced with Renard in full impassiveness mode, which translates to the most fearsome glare to everyone who knows him well enough. To others the tall distinguished man looks completely aloof, disinterested even but Nick knows better.

Even wearing jeans and a light sweater with his hands stuffed into his pockets he still manages to pull off the full Captain's act! His stare tells him: 'What are you up to? And don't think I haven't spotted that bear!'

Nick shrugs as if to say 'Humour me, please.' and takes the almost imperceptible softening of the man's expression an assent to go on.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Following their silent exchange Sean watches as his Detective gets his act together... and he is impressed. To everyone else Nick looks like just another young man checking how much of a crowd he has drawn before trying to impress some girl. He's damn good at playing unruly yet charming little devil.

"Okay, how about we make a deal?" Sean crosses his arms in front of his chest as he watches the scene unfold.

"If I hit true... say... three times out of five – with my eyes blindfolded, no less – I get that bear for the ten quid I would have paid for my five tries. If I don't manage it, you get 50 bucks and I get nothing."

As excited whispers spread through the crowd Sean can practically see the stall owner's eyes spark with greed. After they agree on the deal a blindfold is produced from somewhere, which Nick puts over his eyes, before a bat is pushed into his hands. He lowers his stance just so, can feel excitement built around him.

 _Oh Nick, you truly_ _ **are**_ _a devil. That man won't know what hits him._

"Ladies and gentlemen, attention an' quiet, please, we have an especially brave young man here today! He's goin' to try an' hit these nice coconuts off their posts wi'hout seein' a thing!"

The crowd hushes, giving Nick opportunity to concentrate. He knows how he wants to play this.

"Here goes the first!"

Nick strains his senses, hears the soft ball approach, sees it before his inner eye...

and misses on purpose. A collective groan goes through the crowd.

"Pity! Here goes the second!"

Another ball whistles by – the Grimm can tell that ol' Bill does not do easy balls – and again he barely twitches, missing completely.

With a dejected sigh Nick says (loud enough for them all to hear):

"Oh, just throw the three remaining balls already! Going at this rate it's not as if my winning chances are all that high!"

Nick is proud at how frustrated he sounds.

"If you say so, lad."

Nick grabs his bat imperceptibly tighter, readies himself, listens to three balls thrown in quick succession...

and WHACK, WHACK, WHACK...

moving with inhuman speed and precision he hits three balls getting those coconuts dead on. To the sound of smashing nutshells and deafening cheers from his audience he pulls off the blindfold, his first gaze straying to a certain imposing looking man.

A look of undisguised pride on Sean's face is enough to send butterflies through his belly. A triumphant grin makes his face practically glow, morphing into a devious smirk only when he turns back to Bill and away from the crowd.

"Oh, wow! That went much better than expected! Guess I was lucky!"

As he takes out a ten dollar note Nick is quite sure that ol' Bill would rather take hold of his throat than a damn ten quid but he acts completely oblivious to the owner's ire when he finally, _finally_ gets his prize handed over. With much back slapping, cheers and cat calls he makes his way over to Sean, who seems undecided which expression should win out: Endorsement at seeing his brat with a teddy bear after showing his exceptional skills with a bat or a scowl at discovering multiple similarities between himself and said bear.

They leave the crowd behind walking to a more deserted area.

"You didn't honestly get me a cuddly toy, did you?"

His tone is somewhere between deadpan and teasing.

"Yes, I did. And it even has a name."

Nick sounds ridiculously proud of himself as he looks up at his Captain.

"And which may that be?"

Now it turns sceptical bordering on ominous. Slowly he takes the (heavenly soft) bear from his Grimm.

"Mr. Renard."

A lesser man would have sputtered in disbelief but Sean Renard has better control. That would have been beneath him. Instead he asks:

"Mr.? Not at least 'Captain'?"

"Nope." He takes Sean's free hand in his.

"There's only one Captain Renard for me. The one who reaches an impressive height of 6'4 and manages to make men older than himself pee their pants in fright with a single stare. _Mr._ Renard is good, but he is not _that_ good!"

A quiet chuckle. Renard moves toward him until his mouth is nearly touching his ear. When he speaks warm breath ghosts over sensitive skin.

"Oh, mon gamin, I hope you are aware that you have it coming now." Only the slightly teasing note in those whispered words reassures Nick that his mate takes all this in good humour. His answering smile is daring. Sean knows that look. Sparks of mischief lighten grey eyes.

"As long as it is as enjoyable as last time you promised retribution I think I'm safe... And now be Prince Charming and take care not to loose your cuddly toy."

The Detective sprints off before Sean can land a swat on his delectable rear end, knowing without a doubt that the Prince of Portland is hot on his heels as he weaves through masses of people visiting the fair. The image of fearsome Captain Sean Renard pursuing his lover with a giant teddy bear clutched to his side makes Nick chortle with suppressed laughter, however, and sadly slows down his escape!

He makes it to the wide lawns overlooking Willamette River before the man catches up with him. Barely evading a long arm that wants to snag around his midriff Nick collapses onto lush green grass still laughing. He rolls onto his back; looks up into the sun and up at his beloved towering above him, drawn up to his full height and sporting a decidedly predatory expression. Nick finds even while holding a midnight blue bear the royal bastard and weathered Police Captain loses nothing of his touch.

"Please, be merciful oh Captain, my Captain." He is still slightly breathless, happiness making him seem younger, more carefree than Sean has seen him in a long time. For a few delightful moments he keeps him in suspense, patrician features giving nothing away, then he relents, squats down next to him to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

"Mercy granted. But only because you're lucky and I know of a few delightful things to do with you later on." Sean sits next to Nick on the lawn, where they enjoy the last rays of evening sun.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

"So you thought I resemble a cuddly toy?" Even as he asks his long fingers caress soft fur reverently.

"Yes. And if you take a close look at him, you'll have to agree with me. I couldn't pass up on that opportunity... and I wanted to expose that stall owner's doings. That guy can be glad I didn't pursue this as a Detective."

Sean gives a dark chuckle.

"He looked ready to murder you at the end. And that was _before_ your audience noticed long iron nails among the coconut remains and what will most likely be strong magnets on the posts."

Nick leans against the taller man's side, closing his eyes in contentment.

"Thank you for visiting the Fair with me today."

A whisper of a touch, the lightest nuzzle of an aquiline nose to side of Nick's head, invisible to an onlooker and yet there... given with love and affection.

"I guess as long as you don't intent to get me a bear every time we visit a fair I'll cope with the occasional trip."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

They are lounging on their couch, Nick's feet propped up on Sean's lap while the Grimm is sprawled across the cushions. When Nick's phone rings he takes it up lazily, perusing the message, and starts laughing.

"Monroe sends me his evil eye... and I mean that literally."

He shows him a photo depicting only Monroe's eyes and wild brows, all drawn together into an impressive scowl.

"He texts me that ever since I send Rosalee that picture of Fluffy Tuffy (the Royal mouths 'Fluffy Tuffy' with a healthy dose of scepticism) she is pestering him to visit the fair and buy one as well."

"I guess a certain cocky Grimm has to watch out for a vegan blutbad hell bend on revenge then."

"As long as he doesn't exact said revenge by forcing me to eat another version of tofurky I think I'll manage.

"Maybe I should ask him to brainstorm for ideas." Sean's smirk is definitely on the disquieting side.

"Don't you dare! Look, Mr. Renard wouldn't approve!"

The weathered Grimm exclaims in mock horror.

"Oh, so Mr. Renard wouldn't approve of me plotting against my bratty Grimm?"

Before Nick can answer he's swept away by his powerful zauberbiest pouncing on him.

How he has managed that so fast – and with feet propped up on his lap no less – Nick doesn't know but as a very skilled mouth claims his in a demanding kiss such inconsequential thoughts fly cleanly out of the window.

"And how about this?" Sean drawls once they've drawn away for breath.

"Do you think Mr. Renard would approve of this?" Nick throws a quick glance at the bear in the armchair, licking his lips in anticipation.

"I think he's okay with that... more than okay, actually."

"Oh, well, what can I say against that."

For the rest of the evening the two occupants of the house are quite content to forget about candy cotton unicorns and fairs and even impassively staring teddy bears.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

This was their day at Portland Fair. I would dearly love to hear what you think about it! ;D


End file.
